Know ye not then the Riddling of the Bards? Confusion, and illusion, and relation, Elusion, and occasion, and evasion? - Alfred Tennyson

Come, my friends.
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
For my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset.
And though we are not now that strength which in old days moved Earth and Heaven.
That which we are, we are; one equal temper of heroic hearts
made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
to strive, to seek, to find,
and not to yield.

Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

"Shall we fight or shall we fly? Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die! There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set." And Sir Richard said again: "We be all good English men. Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil, For I never turn'd my back upon Don or devil yet."